[The places they come from are very different. And yet they are the very same. In parts of the Backstreets, people still met, danced, had the night to themselves as the Sweepers moves in waves to collect the dirt, debris, dead bodies, and the unfortunate few left out in the open. To seek warmth, where outside was death.]
[There's no such thing here. They won't walk outside to immediate danger. But still, it almost feels paramount to be this close, to hold each other, as if letting go would mean their end.]
[The hand on his face makes him sigh. Even now, he thinks of that bright-eyed girl. He wonders what Malkuth would think of him, now.]
[Maybe she would congratulate how selfish he has become.]
Maybe I don't have a lot of expectations.
[He is lead inward. Vergilius shifts his face, kisses the palm of the hand clasping it.]
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[There's no such thing here. They won't walk outside to immediate danger. But still, it almost feels paramount to be this close, to hold each other, as if letting go would mean their end.]
[The hand on his face makes him sigh. Even now, he thinks of that bright-eyed girl. He wonders what Malkuth would think of him, now.]
[Maybe she would congratulate how selfish he has become.]
Maybe I don't have a lot of expectations.
[He is lead inward. Vergilius shifts his face, kisses the palm of the hand clasping it.]
I just...go with the flow.